Up, Stand Up" on this LP), it flashes a warning, a rebellious spirit born of squalor and subjugation, not bourgeois guilt. Like his worst, it can also be trying, mixing didactic pronouncements with bad lyrics.

Musically, however, it's a relentless treat. Tosh has supplanted the narcotized sameness of his previous arrangements with a funkified sameness, one that favors clavinet and synthesizer over choppy rhythm guitar. The effect softens the upbeat motion of the bass and drums without subverting their pulse, making Tosh more accessible to those who have had difficulty adjusting to reggae's instrumental rawness. Throughout, Tosh sings in a robust, pliable voice. His inflection ranges from romantic scat to coarse invective, delivered in a slurring patois that can turn and cut sharply, making real the lingering rage in songs like "Stepping Razor" and "Downpressor Man."

At other times, it is precisely Tosh's submissiveness that renders his evangelical fusion of temper and faith so potent. "Equal Rights," with a melodic line and progression reminiscent of "I Shall Be Released" (don't sue, Bob), is towering reggae. Similarly, "Jah Guide" is an appropriately funereal reading of the 23rd Psalm. Stated in disquieting musical terms—using bluesy minor chords to punctuate a major-scale chorus—it is a jarring testament to the Rastafarian spirit of survival. And Equal Rights is stirring evidence of reggae's musical amenability, from one of its brightest latent hopes. (RS 243)

MIKAL GILMORE